


Comfort

by mydeira, Sadbhyl



Series: Responsible Adults (aka, The Menageaverse) [19]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-04
Updated: 2012-06-04
Packaged: 2017-11-06 20:20:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/422801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mydeira/pseuds/mydeira, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sadbhyl/pseuds/Sadbhyl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ethan pays a visit to Joyce and sees for himself how bad things are.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Comfort

**Author's Note:**

> Follows Said The Joker To The Thief.
> 
> Written by Mydeira, beta'd by Sadbhyl

Fragile. One word Ethan never would have associated with Joyce was fragile. When she opened the door, her bright smile and the shadows did nothing to mask how drawn she looked.

“Hey, stranger,” she invited him in.

“Is it safe for me to come in?” he asked lightly, pushing the thoughts away.

“Buffy’s out making the night safer and Dawn’s upstairs sound asleep. You know Dawn, I doubt if even an earthquake could wake her,” she laughed.

“And suppose the slayer happens by to check on her mum for the evening?”

“She’s already been here and gone, so have no fear,” she grasped his hand and pulled him after her into the dimly lit living room. “I suppose you’ve been off doing things you can’t tell me about, right?”

“Certainly. Isn’t that what I do best?” Ethan kept up the casual conversation while trying to ascertain for himself how bad things were.

“I can think of other things you do best,” Joyce said suggestively.

“With your youngest and most impressionable upstairs? Joyce, have I finally corrupted you, my dear?”

“I was well on my way before you came on the scene. Though you—” her words were cut short as she stumbled. He reached out quickly to steady her. She looked at him in confusion. “Ethan, what . . .” she shook her head. “What was I saying?”

There was fear and uncertainty in her eyes.

“Here, why don’t we sit down,” he gently pulled her to the couch next to him.

“I’m fine, really,” she protested unconvincingly. His disbelief must have shown. “You’ve spoken with Rupert, haven’t you?”

There was no point in denying it. “What’s going on, Joyce?” he asked quietly, reaching out to gently tuck a stray hair behind her ear.

“I don’t know. And that frightens me, Ethan,” her eyes were wide and scared. “I don’t know what’s happening to me.”

He pulled Joyce to him and she nestled close.

“I thought it was all stress related at first, but that didn’t make much sense. The gallery’s doing well and things are going very well in my personal life,” she smiled up at him faintly.

“Are they now?” he kissed her lightly.

“Not one, but two wonderful men in my life? You can’t do much better than that.”

“I should hope not.” Then turning serious again, “But it wasn’t just headaches, was it?”

“No,” her voice quavered. “Not too long after the headaches, I started to get dizzy and nauseous from time to time. Thought maybe I wasn’t eating enough or maybe what I was eating wasn’t agreeing with me. I went through every possible mundane explanation. Believe it or not, I actually thought I might be pregnant.”

That gave Ethan a jolt. It wasn’t something he had ever really thought about. And now that he did . . . he honestly couldn’t say how he felt about the idea. Considering how their encounters were conducted now it was very possible. For a man who rarely considered the consequences of his actions, he was suddenly considering one consequence very much.

“Ethan!”

He blinked.

“I was just saying you didn’t have to worry about that. I ruled it out fairly quickly.”

“Wasn’t worrying,” he said, but then seeing her narrowed eyes, “much.”

“So that glazed, deer caught-in-the-headlights look was just for show?”

“You’re changing the subject,” he said knowingly.

“As are you, but we’ll come back to that,” she said pointedly. Reluctantly she resumed her account. “When the fainting spells started, I knew something bad was happening. And while the doctors have yet to confirm it, I think it might be . . .” she stopped swallowing hard.

“No, don’t even think that,” Ethan nearly shouted. It couldn’t possibly be cancer. The slayer had seen the sigil. It was mystically caused, whatever it was. And that he could deal with that. But the other . . . no, just no.

“It is a possibility, Ethan,” Joyce’s voice was firm.

“Not in this town,” he denied.

She reached for his hand and gripped hard. “Ethan, the normal world still comes into play, even if this is a hellmouth. And it the normal world, there aren’t supernatural causes for things.”

“You’d be surprised,” he muttered to himself. Taking a deep breath, “Are they running more tests?”

She nodded. “I’m going in for more blood work next week. If there’s anything, they should find it then.”

“And you have to sit here and wait?” he got up and began to pace.

“Sometimes that’s all you can do,” she said gently, screwing her eyes shut and rubbing her forehead.

He was kneeling in front of her in an instant. “Gods, Joyce, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” she smiled faintly.

“Well, I doubt that I’m helping matters any.”

“Just you being here helps,” she said, the words heavy with meaning.

“What can I do, Joyce? Please, tell me?” He needed to do something; he couldn’t just sit here and watch her be in pain. Maybe there was something he could do after all. “Joyce? Will you let me try something?”

“If it will make the pain go away, at least for a little while, please,” she looked at him, eyes slitted and teary.

Placing his hands on either side of her head, he kissed her furrowed brow lightly. He was surprised by the burning sensation when his lips touched her skin. Not heat from a fever so much as the feeling one would get from touching an electric current. Pulling back, he could just now make out the outline of the sigil. There was someone powerful at work here. He stroked Joyce’s cheek softly, “My poor girl, I’ll do my best.”

“How did I get so lucky?” she whispered, leaning into the caress.

“I believe it’s the other way around, but we’ll leave the semantics for another day,” he said as he gently lifted her up off the couch and carried her upstairs.

“Planning to have your wicked way with me?” she murmured into his shoulder.

“Not tonight, but I hope it’ll make you feel almost as good.”

Placing her on the bed, he slowly undressed her before drawing the warm comforter up over her bare frame. Her eyes followed him around the room as he gathered various items. The familiarity he had somewhat unnerved him. He shouldn’t know her room so well. Shouldn’t feel so comfortable.

He set up and lit several candles before turning off the bedroom lights. Removing his shirt and shoes, but leaving his pants where they were, Ethan got onto the bed.

“If you would be so kind,” he said, and Joyce obligingly rolled onto her stomach. He pulled the comforter down to expose her shoulders and upper back, and then grabbed the bottle from the nightstand. When he uncorked it, the subtle scent of almonds filled the room.

After warming the oil in his hands, Ethan set to work on Joyce’s neck and shoulders, paying attention to each knot before moving on.

“Let me know if it’s too hard or not hard enough,” Ethan instructed as his fingers sought out the tightness along the base of her skull.

“There’s no such thing as too hard,” Joyce said teasingly.

“It’s good to know you’re feeling better so quickly,” he smiled.

Soon he was almost hypnotized by the rhythm he established, slowly working his way lower.

“I think you missed your calling,” she sighed, her words coming slowly.

“Did I now?”

“Definitely.” Ethan could feel the tension melting away from her. “Better be careful, though, or I might expect you to do this all the time.”

Rubbing along the base of her spine, “I can imagine worse things than being your personal masseur.”

“Mm,” she drifted for a moment then came back. “But you don’t know how demanding I would be.”

“I think I have a good idea,” he chuckled as he kneaded her thigh.

Outside the occasional sigh or soft moan, Joyce was quiet after that.

Once he reached her feet, Ethan moved back up to give equal attention to her arms and hands. It wasn’t until he finished that he registered Joyce was fast asleep. He covered her up once again, before setting about cleaning up.

Ethan had just extinguished the last candle and was slipping back into his shirt when Joyce called out to him, her voice thick with sleep.

“Will you stay the night?”

How could he say no?

Ethan placed his shirt back on the chair and joined Joyce under the comforter. She immediately curled in his arms.

“Thank you,” she said and was quiet. He thought she had fallen back asleep when she spoke again, “I sleep better when I feel safe.”

He, Ethan Rayne, made her feel safe? It was the last sentiment he would ever have expected to instill in anyone. Fear was a definite. But safe?

Her gentle sigh as she drifted off banished all further thoughts. Ethan wrapped his arms tight around Joyce and held her close. If she felt safe with him, well, he would do everything to not prove her wrong.  



End file.
